


Get some rest, Cap

by HeyGina



Series: goodbye my lover [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Captain America: The First Avenger, Crying, Emotional Hurt, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kind of canon-divergent, M/M, Memories, Post-Bucky's death, Sad Memories, Steve Rogers Centric, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve is so sad, because steve somehow gets back to brooklyn in between bucky's fall and the rest of the movie, mild panic attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 14:54:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12368124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeyGina/pseuds/HeyGina
Summary: Get some rest, they said, with eyes full of a pity he dreads, because he has been on the field for days, and he’ll have to go back soon, he knows. Get some rest, because no matter how hard he tried to conceal it, he’s certain they could see how utterly broken he is.(In which Steve sleeps without Bucky at his side for the first time after the train.)





	Get some rest, Cap

He’s been at the apartment for an hour.

 _Get some rest, Cap_ , everyone’s told him. He’s nodded. He’s said he’s fine, he’s said he’s gonna get some sleep. Some days off. He’s fine.

No one has dared ask why Captain America chose to stay at that small cramped place when the army offered him at least ten better ones – maybe they know. They must know, because they just drove him here and left, left him in this place that feels familiar and foreign at the same time.

He does haveten better ones to go, but tonight – he can’t think of anywhere else to be but here. Nowhere else would feel right.

Not that this feels right. Not that anything feels right at all. He’s been sitting on the old couch for an hour and everything that could feel wrong in the world does.

 _Get some rest,_  they said, with eyes full of a pity he dreads, because he has been on the field for days, and he’ll have to go back soon, he knows.  _Get some rest,_ because no matter how hard he tried to conceal it, he’s certain they could see how utterly broken he is.

But he can’t think of that. He can’t he can’t  _he can’t_ allow himself to feel because once he does, he isn’t sure he’ll be able to come back from it, and it terrifieshim. So he moves.  _Get some rest, Cap,_ they said, and he might as well try – regardless of the voice inside his head that tells him he’s never gonna be able to “get some rest” again in his life.

The couch creaks when he stands (like it did so many times when it was two and not one lying there, tangled limbs and soft touches and shared blankets and–  _no_ ), and his quiet steps feel too loud in the dark and silent apartment. He makes his way to the room (their room–  _stop_ ) and trying not to give too much thought to his actions –or to anything, really–, he opens the first drawer he finds, suddenly eager to get out of his war-stained clothes.

That’s when he realizes the only clothes he has here are tinynow, which means he’ll have to wear his.

And with that, it all comes crumbling down.

Within a second the world is spinning and his vision is blurry and something is pressing down his chest and he can’t breathe

he can’t breathe

 _he can’t breathe_  and–

He stumbles to the bed, uncertain of how much longer his legs will be able to hold him for, and before he knows it, his desperate gasps for air are coming out in sobs and everythinghurts _._ He buries his face in his hands, trying to keep the tears from falling – but he can’t. They come as a waterfall, and with them come the memories he can no longer push back. The tangled limbs, the touches, the shared blankets and cots and tents and the stolen kisses and midnight dances and–

Everything comes rushing, and it hurts so muchhe feels like his heart is gonna break in half unless he finds a way to stop it.

But he can’t. He can’t stop it any longer.

So he gives in and he cries. He cries and cries and  _cries_ until he feels like he’s run out of tears but they keep coming _,_ and without realizing it he’s curled up in a ball  – because for once, for a while, he’s not Captain America. He’ll go after Schmidt, he’s already said. He’ll wake up tomorrow and start planning the next move, he’ll go on because he hasto – but tonight, he’s only Steve _._ Broken and beaten and tired Steve.

And without Bucky, Steve feels like he’s nothing.

So he cries. Lying in a bed that feels too cold, under a blanket that feels too big, in a world that feels too foreign, he cries his broken heart out.

He cries for what he had and won’t come back, he cries for the second in which he almost grabbed his hand, he cries for the moment he realized he was too late. He cries for the tangled limbs and stolen kisses and shared nights, he cries for everything they said and everything they didn’tsay because they were young and stupid and took everything for granted and God _,_ he cries until his head hurts and his eyes burn and his entire body trembles as if he was freezing.

And once the tears give him a break, once the sobs grow lower and he can think straight  _–_  he looks at the mess he is and wonders if Bucky is watching.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt/request by @barnesstevie at Tumblr. I regret nothing and I hope this was as painful as I intended. Comments are highly appreciated if you enjoyed :) [ come say hi on tumblr](http://cvptainbucky.tumblr.com/post/166411014354/get-some-rest-cap)


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